


Who Do You Think Sent Me?

by LadyWolf13



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon - TV, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hair Pulling, Innocent Sansa Stark, Mildly Dubious Consent, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22289728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWolf13/pseuds/LadyWolf13
Summary: One-shot. Based on S1 episode when The Hound captures Sansa after Ned's downfall in court. Warning: mildly dubious consent 🚫
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 114





	Who Do You Think Sent Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how this one even happened...I was rewatching Season 1 and I needed an outlet for all the unspoken juicy Sansan moments that could have happened BTS. I hope you enjoy! Any comments or  
> feedback are much appreciated ^.^

‘Stay away from me. I’ll tell my father.’ His terrible grin widened, tongue gliding over bared teeth as he surveyed her. She suddenly felt naked under his gaze, an unfamiliar heat pooling in her belly. Sansa panicked at his expression, heart rate quickening at an alarming rate. 

‘I-I’ll tell the Queen,’ she stammered. 

Sandor Clegane chuckled darkly, a gleam in his grey eyes as he walked slowly towards her. A predator ready to pounce on its prey. 

‘Who do you think sent me?’ 

He continued walking towards her, not stopping until his massive frame towered over her. Not stopping until there was barely an inch between them. The Hound was so close to Sansa she could feel the heat radiating off his enormous body. His proximity made it hard for Sansa to think straight. 

She hung her head, anxious not to look upon his terrifying face. Those scars, those eyes…so angry…he was The Stranger born again. The Hound rightfully suspected her silence as resignation, a strong hand reaching out and grabbing her upper arm in a vice like grip. 

‘I’m to escort you to Maegor’s Holdfast. You are to stay there until the Queen summons you,’ he rasped, bending down to whisper in her ear. Sansa felt a shiver down her spine at the tickle of his warm breath trailing down her neck. It was almost…pleasant. The sensation momentarily distracted her from her fear, and her eyes fluttered closed for an instant. 

Sandor Clegane began to march her forward towards her tower, shaking her from her reverie. Instant terror washed over her again. _What in the name of the Maiden was going on? Why had Septa Mordane told her to run? Where was Father?_ Her thoughts raced at a million miles per hour as she allowed The Hound to continue dragging her up the serpentine. 

‘What’s going on? Where is everyone? Where’s my Father?’ she blurted rather impolitely. Sansa let out a gasp at her most unladylike questioning, wishing she could take it back. The Hound came to an abrupt halt. 

‘Forgive me, my lo-'

The Hound cut her off before she could finish, a giant hand clasping around her throat as he pressed her against the wall. For a man of his size, he moved remarkably quick. Sansa felt the hilt of his sword press into her stomach and she whimpered, trying in vain to turn her head away. 

‘You should know better than to question a man when his blood is up, Little Bird. King Robert is dead. Things are about to change around here. Might be they’re changing in my favour too. Might be I can do whatever I please with you.’ 

He grinned terribly as his grip tightened around her throat and arm. Sansa let out a strangled sob, tears threatening to spill on her lashes. Out of impulse, and knowing that he liked her to look upon him, Sansa gathered her courage and turned her face to look directly into his eyes. They were almost black, filled with a hungry expression she couldn’t quite interpret. They widened slightly as she met his gaze, and Sansa thought she heard a large swallow. It was quickly replaced with a menacing growl, The Hound thrusting forward as he snarled in her face. 

‘Would you like that, little bird? If I did whatever I pleased with you?’ Sansa wasn’t sure how but she felt the edge of his sword twitch against her belly. It felt bigger than before too, she thought with bewilderment. She was struggling for air as she gasped, ‘P-please don’t harm me, Ser. I’ll be good. I will return to my tower and await the Queen.’ 

Sandor Clegane let out a joyless bark as he released his grip on her. He shook his head as if to clear it, a heavy sigh escaping him. ‘Of course you’ll be a good girl. Damned pretty little thing, you don’t know what you do to dogs like me. I’m a _dog_ too, girl. Remember that. I’m no fucking Ser and I’ll never pretend to be.’ 

With that he took a step back and motioned for her to continue up the stairway, falling into step closely behind her. Sansa could feel his eyes on her so forcefully it felt like a weight on her back. She decided not to tempt fate and remained silent for the rest of their journey up to her chambers. _He called me pretty…what did he mean what I do to him?_ Sansa’s confusion at The Hound’s words kept her preoccupied right up until they reached her door. She opened it, and the sound of swords clashing and shouts coming from the window brought her instantly back to the present. Something was definitely off, she didn’t feel safe. _Those guards wouldn’t have hurt Septa Mordane, surely? They were drawing their swords when she turned and ran…_

‘Make sure you bar the door, girl. Don’t open it for anyone but me or the Queen.’ 

Sansa barely heard him in her panic, but the sound of The Hound’s retreating footsteps made her call out after him in fright. She really didn’t wish to be alone right now. Even though this great hulk of a man terrified her, somehow the thought of another member of the Kingsguard finding her alone frightened her more. _Where was her Father’s household guard?_

‘Wait! Will – will you stay with me until this passes, my lord? I know it is rather improper of me to ask but I don’t know what’s going on and’- 

His cruel laugh cut her off again, locking his thumbs in his sword belt as he walked forward to lean against the doorway. Even though his demeanour seemed relaxed, Sansa could see him fighting something internally. His eyes gave him away every time. She took note of this, willing herself to look upon his disfigured features more often…perhaps it would work in her favour someday. 

‘So the little bird wishes for one of her _true knights_ to stay by her side and protect her, does she?’ 

His voice was dangerously low, yet still so sharp it could cut through stone. Sansa couldn’t tell if he was mocking her again, but something about his tone told her to stay quiet. He pushed himself casually off the doorway, entering the room as he lazily kicked the door shut behind him. Sansa felt an immediate wave of dread. How could she be so foolish? She sent a silent prayer to the Seven that he would not take her maidenhead. He was once again letting his eyes roam over her body in that way that made her feel utterly exposed. _As if she had just stripped down to her smallclothes before him_ , she thought with disgust. _How improper._ She cursed herself as she felt the same heat pool in her belly once again, now recognising it for what it was with horror. She had last felt it when she had been watching The Knight of Flowers during the tourney. Why was her body reacting this way to a _look?_ From _him?_

To her alarm, it appeared The Hound was also…becoming aroused. Standing directly in front of her like this, she saw a huge bulge in his breeches and realised with a flush that had not been the hilt of his sword earlier. _Mother have mercy. How could she have been so stupid? This was Sandor Clegane, brother of The Mountain! He was sure to overpower her._ He watched her intently with a slightly amused expression, as if he could sense her internal battle. 

Quick as a flash, she felt one of his huge paws grasp her hip, the other coming up to clasp her braid as he spun her around and shoved her roughly against the door. She let out a cry of shock, his fingers digging painfully into her side. 

‘What’s the matter, little bird? Getting wet already at the mention of your Sers? I’ll wager you touch your pretty little cunt just from the thought.’ 

As he spoke, he tugged lightly at her braid. It was oddly conflicting to the harsh tone of his words. Sansa was mortified to notice that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling, and she let her head fall back, eyes closing as he pulled. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as she kept her eyes firmly shut. She felt The Hound still against her. After a few breaths, he tugged lightly again as the hand on her hip roamed down to squeeze her bottom through her skirts. Sansa let out a gasp, eyes flying open as something electric shot through her. She bit her lower lip, daring to look up at him as she rubbed her thighs together, trying to figure out why a strange wetness had formed there. 

‘Fuck me,’ The Hound rasped in a strained voice. Sansa found she couldn’t speak, all of her words and courtesies had escaped her as her lower regions continued to throb. ‘You _do_ want this, don’t you? Might be you’re not the good little girl your Septa tried so hard for you to be.’ He quickly released her braid to allow his other hand to cup her arse as he lifted her slightly. Sansa gasped again, all fear vanished as another surge of pleasure shot through her being pressed directly up against his sturdy body. Her knees had parted slightly so she could feel his stiffened manhood directly between her thighs. It made some wanton part of her want to thrust her hips against him, be even closer to him, ease the ache that was becoming unbearable. 

Sandor Clegane groaned as he buried his snout in her neck, inhaling deeply against her thick auburn locks. She felt his teeth scrape against the soft flesh of her neck, and she whimpered in anticipation. With an air of great restraint, The Hound sunk his teeth into her smooth skin, letting out a low growl as he did so. He let his teeth sink further in a slow, almost gentle manner. Sansa flinched in his arms at the new sensation. 

It seemed to bring him to his senses however, as he grunted and released her flesh from his mouth. ‘You’re a fucking dream come true, girl,’ he managed to get out before he began to lightly suck the irritated patch of skin that has blossomed on her neck. Sansa shivered and let out a soft sigh, arms tightening around his neck as she gave in to his ministrations. ‘Taste…so…fucking…good,’ he growled against her skin as he now licked and kissed his way down her collarbone. Sansa could tell he wanted to continue kissing down to her breasts, and as he did the intensity of the situation hit her. She froze as fear robbed her body once more; _was this really how she would lose her maidenhead? To an ugly brute?_ Her eyes opened in horror. 

The Hound seemed to sense her discomfort at once. He pulled back, catching the expression on her face. He let out a sigh of frustration, and dropped her back down rather ungently. Sansa let out a little squeal of shock at the fall. ‘My lord, I –'

‘Spare me, girl. I should have known better to think you’d get your smallclothes soaked over a dog like me. Mayhap I will leave you to be discovered by one of your beloved knights,’ he spat angrily, turning on his heel to storm out of the room. Sansa spluttered meaningless words after him; none of her upbringing had prepared her for a situation like this. He didn’t come back. Sansa ran to her bed, throwing herself down as tears spilled down her cheeks in her frustration and confusion.

Unbeknownst to her, Sandor Clegane halted at the bottom of the serpentine and remained on guard there for the rest of the evening, not letting anyone pass through to get to his little bird. 


End file.
